One Night At The Manor
by LadySirius32158
Summary: A typical evening at Malfoy Manor, now that Severus Snape has come to live. Can they maintain the facade of the perfect family, and how will they keep their relationship secret from Draco?


TITLE: One Night at the Manor

AUTHOR: Lady Sirius

PAIRING: SS/LM

RATING: NC17

FEEDBACK: Contains spoilers for HBP

DISCLAIMER: Of course all rights to Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling

- I just like to play with Severus and Lucius when I can!

DEDICATION: To my glorious, talented, wondrous and everlastingly sexy

inspiration - Gary Oldman - and of course to Alan Rickman and Jason Isaacs! And to my two Severuses - Amber and Ann - who both love my Luciuses!

One Night at the Manor

It was a typical evening at Malfoy Manor, no different than any other in the recent past, ever since the addition of another resident to the privileged household - brought about on the evening that he had fled Hogwarts School of Wizardry, having summarily dispatched the Headmaster of said learning establishment to his eternal reward, verily even as he had been instructed to do - and all had become settled into a quiet routine which belied the seething emotions which formed in the underbelly of their everyday lives beneath the surface tranquility. Politeness was the watchword of the day, as the three adults - two men and one woman - as well as one youth verging upon manhood himself - passed a quiet period together in the stately and ornate living room - never the study, for that was Lucius' domain and woe betide anyone who chose to enter it without his express permission or invitation - as if convention demanded that they make an attempt to reconcile themselves to giving the illusion of domestic peace to the rest of the world.

Draco Malfoy adored his mother and always had, but he was under no illusions about the state of his parents' marriage - for as long as he could remember they had lived separate lives, maintained separate bedrooms, and although they were properly polite to one another, it was obvious that this was indeed a marriage of convenience arranged for them by their parents, and that there was no love lost in the translation. Draco also admired and worshipped his father, and wished to be like him when he was a grown man - and yes, he understood what that entailed, for Lucius had been schooling him now for some time as to his aspirations and expectations for his only begotten son, and Draco had no intention of disappointing his father - now or ever. Idly, he wondered if his parents had chosen a bride for him, and would he lead the same sort of life as they did - loveless and emotionally barren? Or so it seemed to him. He assumed that his father took lovers, discreetly, of course, while he also assumed that Narcissa did not - his ideas being rather chauvinistic, perhaps, but that is oft the way of young men who have seen little of the world as yet and assume that women remain chaste while men do not, while not considering the question of with whom these unchaste men were taking their pleasure, if not the allegedly chaste women. But even Draco had become aware of undercurrents in the once even tenor of the Manor - tremors which fell into the radar of his otherwise oblivious state, and made him wonder if perhaps he were missing something that was present beneath his very nose.

Narcissa Black Malfoy had been a lovely girl, and her beauty had only increased with the years, blossoming with her one and only pregnancy - and there had never been a question or doubt that there would _be_ a pregnancy, or indeed as many as it took to achieve Lucius' goal of having a son, distasteful as the acquiring of said son might be. But gazing at Draco from her corner where she quietly sat and either read, or wrote her correspondence, or worked her petit point, she knew that it had been worth whatever displeasure had been occurred in his conception. Normally she would have remained in her wing of the house - long ago she had learned to live with the separate living quarters which she and her husband maintained, and had no desire to venture into his portion of the house even had she the ability, for he had also warded it against her, although if she had attempted such a feat she knew that she would have felt the effects of such a move and it would not have been pretty - but her son's presence in the home somehow dictated that she attempt to give the illusion of familial harmony, even in the face of what were to her most distasteful changes in their living arrangements. _His_ presence being almost a slap in the face to herself, for he occupied the position to which she was entitled - although she did not wish for it, it was still hers to claim, but not with _him _there. Not that she blamed him either, conversely, for this was a situation not entirely of his making, and she realized that he too was caught up in forces he could not control. Although it did amuse her to see the control which he exercised over her husband - yes, that was worth it sometimes to see Lucius put into his place, to watch him eat crow at times, although she never let on that she had ever observed anything. Sometimes it was best to play the fly on the wall, and enjoy ones private amusements...

What had he gotten himself into, Severus Snape idly wondered as he watched the farce unfold before him, trying to maintain a certain detachment, which was difficult, considering that one day he had been firmly ensconced in his long-coveted, long-awaited and long-deserved position as DADA professor at Hogwarts, the next he was persona non grata at that establishment and probably many others throughout the wizarding world as well, and forced to seek sanctuary within the walls of Malfoy Manor, co-existing on a daily basis with not only Lucius, but Lucius' wife and son, for Merlin's sake. A situation that ran the gamut from the ludicrous to the sublime. Nothing subtle about this irony. Under other circumstances, he would have enjoyed being here, but that enjoyment was marred by his ambiguous position within the household - by the knowledge that it was only by Lucius' grace that he was here, and that Narcissa would as lief see him burn within the depths of the fieriest flames, knowing what she knew about him, and about Lucius - knowledge which she could endure more easily had it not been brought into her own home, under her very nose. Not to mention Lucius' son who, of course, must remain innocent - which galled Severus as well, for at times like these he felt the sting of not being to the manor born, of being a mere half-blood and therefore not good enough to be seen with one as blueblooded as Lucius Malfoy. Which in and of itself was unfair, if he would but be openminded about it, for Lucius had never made him feel that he were inferior in any way, and the issue of Snape's birth was a non-issue in regards to their being together, the concealment being done rather for the protection of the child. It wasn't as if Lord Voldemort himself did not know about them - they had realized early on that to attempt to camouflage such a thing would be fatal indeed. And luckily for them, he had permitted it - in fact, he reveled in it, for it gave him great leverage over the two should he ever desire to exercise it, which heretofore had been never. Still, all in all, Severus had to admit that things could have been a lot worse - and were actually decidedly better, for after interludes such as these, designed to give the illusion of the happy Malfoy family at home, then would come the night. That thought alone brought to him an inner smile, which he hid behind the pages of his potions tome, his heart fluttering in anticipation of what lay ahead.

Lucius Malfoy, master of Malfoy Manor, and all that he surveyed within his domain, contemplated this oh so heartwarming family group, wondering at the sense of humour of whatever celestial agency had decreed that they should all be together for some heretofore unrevealed reason - which he suspected once it was brought to the fore would turn out to be not very greatly to his liking, when said reason was finally revealed. The undercurrents in this room were running rampant - or was that simply his imagination running wild, knowing what he did about everything? Having Severus here with him was a dream come true, and his killing of the bumbling headmaster only added to the headiness of it all. On the other hand, with Draco here, they were forced to make a show for the child's benefit - it having managed to escape his attention at times that Draco was damn near a grown man himself. It was a habit born of long usage, and much practice in the art of deception. But someday he hoped to be able to tell his son the truth - that he loved Severus Snape with his entire being, and that they were now and had been lovers for a very long time - before his birth even - before the arranged nuptials which had resulted in said birth. . But in the meantime, everything had become a matter of balance and delicacy - and playing the game.

Lucius decided that he needed a drink, and he needed it now, as he rang for a house elf, commanding it in his cold patrician tones to serve them wine - selecting one of the rare French vintages he had commandeered from a chateau in the Loire Valley during one of their visits there. Their last visit there, actually - for it was during an interlude which they had permitted themselves one summer when school was not in session, and Lucius' presence was not required elsewhere, a rare occurrence indeed. And Draco was permitted to have some of the wine as well - watered, of course, as befitting his youth. When the vintage arrived, Lucius summarily dismissed the house elf and decanted the pale amber liquid, distributing the slender crystal glasses himself, before resuming his seat and taking some of the expensive wine onto his pampered palate.

Draco took the proferred liquor - no fool was he to pass up the opportunity to drink in his parent's presence - little did they know that he had been consuming firewhiskey for at least two years, next to which this watered-down stuff was rather pallid. But beggars couldn't afford to be choosers, as the saying went, and perhaps if he demonstrated his ability to be responsible in this matter, soon he might be allowed bigger and better things. That was the plan, anyway. Glancing about him, he was struck with a sudden thought. Well, not exactly sudden, as it had occurred to him more than once over the years, but one he had never actually voiced, never finding the time to be just right. For some reason, he decided that the moment was now. "Why don't I have any siblings?" he asked, in a pseudo-innocent voice.

Lucius did the most spectacular spittake, while Severus had to literally bite his tongue to keep from laughing aloud, choking back his amused chortles thickly. Narcissa cast a disapproving look at her husband, setting aside her needlework, as she considered her son's question seriously.

"Your father and I had you, darling, we had no desire to divide our attention with other children." _And no desire to do what it took to get them, _ she added mentally.

Silence reigned for all of...two minutes.

Narcissa glanced toward Severus, wishing to knock the smirk from his lips. "And how are employment prospects these days, dear Severus?" she asked in a saccharine voice.

"Yours or mine?" he drawled in his own inimitable way, his eyes narrowing at the intended slight. "Remind me of what your qualifications are, and I'll alert you to anything I might happen to come across that would suit you...dear Narcissa..."

It was on the tip of Narcissa's tongue to retort that her position as wife and mother as well as chatelaine of Malfoy Manor kept her well occupied, but unfortunately Severus was only too well aware of what her actual position there was, and it cut her in a most vicious way to acknowledge her relative uselessness in the scheme of things. Recovering her sangfroid quickly, she replied, "Whatever they may be, they are not as colourful as yours, Professor Snape. I suppose that being a wanted criminal does make things a bit sticky, doesn' it?" And although she aspired to a demure look, the light in her eyes was simply triumphant and belied her attempts.

At that point, Lucius decided that enough was enough - he was simply not in the mood for this sort of thing, not to mention that his fine clothes were now wet, as well as wine-stained. Rising from his place, he said smoothly, "Severus, if we might continue that discussion we began earlier?" And to his wife and son, "If you will excuse us, please, we will take our business talk elsewhere. I bid you good night, madame," as he made an elegant bow in her direction. However, when he passed by his son, he pressed one elegant hand against the boy's cheek softly, "Good night, Draco."

"Good night, Father," Draco nodded, such a carbon bopy of his father he was - it would be interesting to learn how much of the Black blood possibly lurked beneath the facade. "Uncle Severus..." He was never sure why he called his old potions master that, it was a title he had used for him since first he learned to speak, as the man had always seemed to be an integral part of his life, present in all of his early memories - but technically Snape was his godfather, and not a blood relation. It was all very confusing at times - and especially now when his mother seemed to be so very frosty toward the man. But if he tried to question her regarding her attitude, she simply changed the subject and grew rather furtive instead. So he held his tongue and simply observed the world around him - as was his wont - and wondered quietly to himself.

Once released from the stilted confines of the drawing room - and able to breathe freely once more - the two wizards made their apparently unhurried way to Lucius' private quarters, - which in actuality belonged to both of them, and had for a very long time - seemingly engrossed in the wording of a new edict to be carried out by the Ministry regarding the administration of estates, but truth be told beneath the surface other feelings were being very much brought into play..

"Can you be as assured of Scrimgeour's allegiance as you were of Fudge's?" Severus asked, as they reached their own door at last.

"Indeed," Lucius replied, preceding the other into the sumptuous sitting room which had been most comfortably furnished by the two men themselves while in the capacity of serving the Dark Lord's needs in their travels over the years - bookshelves rimmed the perimeter of the room and various art treasures and antiquities occupied their own niches, while the only furniture consisted of two large overstuffed chairs with high backs, between which sat an ornate mahogany table set up with a wizard's chess set - after all there had to be something for them to do other than recruit Death Eaters, and torture Muggles, fun occupations though these might be, "although he is not quite the ninny Cornelius was either..."

And now that the door was closed, no further words were needed to satisfy even the most basic proprieties as feverish lips met in a warm kiss that belied the subject matter now of no further interest to either of them.

"Torture...such torture," Severus moaned, as he ran his long fingers through those silken platinum tresses, as if testing their texture against his fingertips. But it was hard to ascertain if he referred to putting up with Narcissa and her snide remarks, or of having to spend their evenings in their own home living the pretense that they were mere colleagues/close friends. "We would not have to maintain this charade here, Lucius, if you would but take your boy into our confidence. I think he is more mature than you give him credit for."

Lucius made no immediate reply, caught up in what he was doing - which was disrobing Severus Snape as quickly as possible. He had no satisfactory reply as it was, for this was indeed a sore point between them, and one which he did not wish to discuss at this very moment. So he twisted it to one that was more to his liking. "Once Draco has returned to school, we can go away somewhere, take some time alone, I know just the place. A little island, built just for two..." Tired of fiddling with the unceasing array of buttons which prevented him from obtaining the object of his desire, Lucius muttered a spell which accomplished through the medium of magic that which he was too impatient to do manually - and now what he saw did make his very mouth water with desire, salivating at the sight of his naked lover before him in all his pale eroticism. All six foot one of him. Flowing tresses of an ebony hue, erroneously described by some as greasy, but in actuality possessed of a feral quality which was in direct contrast to the mask which Severus wore before the rest of the world - only in private was the mask removed to reveal the hedonist beneath, the primitive lover whose fiery passions and breadth of expression quite took Lucius' very breath away. And continued to amaze him even after all these years. The students and staff of Hogwarts would be quite surprised to know what the billowing robes concealed, for few suspected that the wiry former DADA professor was possessed of a taut muscular build - not in the way of overdone bodybuilders whose swollen pecs and bulging triceps were simply unnaturally obscene, but rather in a hard, masculine, utterly sexy way, and he had a rather resilient strength which definitely held its own against that of the not unmuscular himself Lucius Malfoy. The hair served to frame a pale face with sharply defined cheekbones, and an aquiline nose considered by some to be large, but Lucius was not one of these. Thin pale lips which were capable of the most remarkable feats - whether bestowing gentle kisses, or wild kisses, or playing Lucius' erection like a master musician - remarkable instruments indeed. And onyx eyes which could freeze out the rest of the world with a few well chosen looks, but which blazed with an inner fire that was reserved for Lucius Malfoy and him alone.

And what of Lucius Malfoy himself? To everyone else he was the calm, cool, collected right hand man of Lord Voldemort - the consummate businessman - the iron fist in the velvet glove. The spoiled selfish aristocrat who treated his wife with a mandatory formality even as he doted on his only begotten son and heir. The silver-tongued politician who swayed opinions with his rhetoric, and didn't hesitate to use force where it was needed - sometimes in the form of a well-placed crucio. Only Severus knew the other Lucius - the one that writhed naked beneath him in the ecstasy of their union, even as he impaled him enthusiastically; the one that teased him with hand and lips and teeth and words, and whispered his name in the darkness of the night - the one that had always been and would always be there for him, whether or not their union was ever given any formal acknowledgement - they knew it was true, and ever abiding. Just a couple inches shy of his lover heightwise, Lucius unclothed was a beautiful sight himself - his platinum tresses falling in waves along his back. Eyes which ranged in colour depending upon his mood - from pale grey to platinum to almost an icy blue, which was never a good sign, usually portending a rage of some sort - and woe betide the recipient of that anger. Only Severus ever saw the passion which poured through those pale orbs, only Severus was allowed to see that that pale muscular body, which retained its tautness even now - and of course only Severus was permitted to touch Lucius in any sort of familiar fashion.

"Come come now, Mr. Malfoy, turnabout is fair play after all," Severus teased, even as he returned the favour and divested his lover of his wine-smeared clothing, followed by a sharp intake of breath at the sight of that which never failed to move him - as evidenced by his very hard very erect cock, which seemed to point at that which he wanted - i.e. Lucius Malfoy. He pulled the blonde into his arms once more, his hands sliding into position over his nicely rounded gluteus maximus, as their cocks commingled appreciatively.

Draco Malfoy was indeed his father's son, an astute observer of the human condition. He sipped at his watery wine, regarding his mother carefully. "Are you alright?" he asked her softly.

"Of course, darling, whatever do you mean?" She presented him with that faux Narcissa smile, which might fool the rest of the world but didn't pass mustard with her son.

"Why are you and Uncle Severus angry at one another?" Piercing pale eyes, so much like his father's - if she didn't love him so much, the uncanny resemblance would be most annoying.

"We're not angry, things are merely a little tense with all of us living here at the moment, it will pass," she reassured him blithely. However, he was not convinced.

"Fair indeed," Lucius responded, wrapping his arms about the other, his long slender fingers finding purchase in the firm skin of that fair back. "Gods, that feels good," he moaned, dickflesh pressed against dickflesh, cocks twitching in anticipation. He had assumed his humble penitent mode tonight, an ameliorative to be applied to the scathing wounds inflicted by his venomous spouse. Not for the first time. Lucius knew the drill, of course.

As did Severus. Naturally. He pulled away from his lover's embrace, albeit reluctantly, as he stepped into his role. "Assume the position, Lucius," in the stern voice of the potions master. And when the other did not move fast enough for his taste, he laid a stinging swat upon one luscious buttock. "Now!" he enjoined him.

Lucius approached one of the two chairs, bending over the seat, his arms grasping the sides of the chair, his reddening ass presented toward Severus, his tongue sliding across his own lips in eager anticipation.

"He saved my life, you know," Draco murmured softly.

"Yes, and for that I am truly appreciative," Narcissa responded, while to herself she added, i But not for what he has done to my life /i ...

"You have been most disobedient," Severus chastised him in that professorial tone he effected so well, "and for that you must be punished. How answer you, slave?"

"Punish me as you wish, master," came the unexpectedly docile tones of the proud patrician. Two more swift slaps across his ass, which quivered most delightfully, causing inhalations of pleasure from both men. If they were in their bedroom, toys would have been brought into play, the adult toys which resided in a magically charmed closet which was only accessible to them, the existence of which was carefully concealed through complicated spells - handcuffs and whips, or dildos and plugs, and costumes of many varieties - but for now this was where they chose to be, and the only instruments to be used were the natural ones belonging to themselves.

Sometimes sex was soft and gentle, languid and seductive, whispers and caresses and honeyed words and touches. At other times, such as now, it was swift and hard, fierce and wild, with carefully selective pain and rawness and intensity.

Severus Snape stretched his lean frame across that bent back, his breath warm against Lucius' ear even as his hard cock sought to burrow its way between his asscheeks. "We shall dispense with any form of lubrication, slave, as you are not deserving of it. Tell me that you do not deserve it..."

"I deserve no such consideration, master," Lucius humbly replied, aching at the mere sound of that voice, the feel of his hot breath, the presence of his raging cock.

"And you will not cum until I give you permission," Severus continued, "no matter how badly you feel the need, and the desire to do so. Is that clear?" The last words snapped with all the precision of a cracked whip.

"Very clear. I will not seek to cum until I have your permission," Lucius acknowledged the orders.

Severus straightened himself a bit - not that he needed to see to know what he was doing - Lucius' body being as familiar to him as his own, and as well mapped, and they invariably fit together like a hand in a skintight glove - and without further ado thrust his hardness inside the other man's tight channel. Pain which segued into unlubricated pleasure coursed through Lucius' body, the two sensations melding into one overwhelming feeling of ecstasy. He could not restrain the sibillant hiss which escaped his lips of its own accord. And Severus reveled in the knowledge that he and he alone had wrought this.

Lucius clutched the chair he was spreadeagled across more tightly as his body adjusted once again to the presence of that which was so familiar to him. These were the moments that he lived for - the union of not only body, but heart and soul and mind.

"Speaking without permission? Naughty!" Although technically speaking, Lucius had not spoken, but it was all part of the game. And Severus slapped that tempting rump, hard enough to leave a scarlet impression of his hand upon the pale skin. Lucius' muscles tightened even more about his throbbing cock as he squeezed reflexively. He whimpered softly at that touch, desirous of more of the same, even as Severus changed the position of his hips, angling his movements to reach that special place that drew from his lover the most fervent responses. And the first time he touched upon that sweet spot, Lucius did indeed release an involuntary moan. For which he was once again chastised - the opalescent skin glowing redly, his nerves on fire with desire.

"Isn't he one of Father's oldest friends?" Draco continued the inquiry, "and isn't that why he was made my godfather?"

"Yes, darling, he is," Narcissa replied, smoothly, while mentally, she snorted, i Is that what they're calling it these days? /i 

Being his father's son, the platinum haired boy never took anything at face value, probing his mother's mind with a gentle touch of legilimency. He caught a quick glimpse of something involving his father and Snape, but before his brain could make the cognitive effort to recognize it, it was blocked. Narcissa said nothing, but her eyes spoke volumes.

"If you will excuse me, Mother," Draco drawled languidly, "I think I shall retire." He kissed her sweetly, but rather than heading toward his room, which lay in his mother's end of the house, he made his way toward his father's, for he did wish to speak with him, even if it meant interrupting the business discussion, which surely by now was ended anyway.

Caught up now in their sensuous dance, the driving fierce rhythms set by the former potions master as he drove himself deeper and deeper into the recesses of the blonde's inner being, their bodies slick with sweat as they worked together to achieve maximum pleasure. Working it hard, harder... in a tempo which had begun as andante, but was now quickly approaching presto. Severus' hand was now firmly wrapped about Lucius' cock, pumping it furiously, in time to his inner thrusts, and Lucius pushed back to meet those thrusts, his lips parted in orgiastic delight, his eyes closed in concentration. Somehow they knew, through the inner connection which bound them, just how to time their releases in tandem - screaming symphonically in stereo, surging streams of sperm, as they cried out their pleasure, inexplicably bound with one another's names.

Draco knocked discreetly upon his father's door. He had no awareness of the wards set in place against his mother, for they did not pertain to him, and she had never made mention of them - he accepted that they did not trespass upon one another's privacy, and left it that. Nothing could be heard from within, but that was not surprising - he was sure his father would have set privacy charms, especially for the sort of discussion which he and Snape were undoubtedly having, concerning the Dark Lord and all. And then the door swung open slightly, and he could see barely see much more than a glimpse of a pair of pale eyes before it was opened more widely, and his father's smiling visage itself appeared.

"Come in, son," he beckoned to him, "you're still up, I see..." Which of course was an unnecessarily superfluous observation, which the boy did not bother to address.

As Draco entered the room, he noticed that Severus Snape was seated in one of the two chairs that were there, bent over the chess board, studying it avidly. Both men were garbed in elegant silk robes - the muggle equivalent of smoking jackets - Snape's being a deep maroon hue, while Lucius' was a midnight blue. Their collective demeanours giving no outward indication of their occupation immediately prior to the knock on the door, although an astute observer might notice a tinge more colour than usual in Lucius' pale complexion, with an answering flush on Snape's pallid skin. And Draco was nothing if not an astute observer...

But he was also diplomatic, being his father's son...

"Was there something you wished to see me about?" Lucius asked. He did not return to his own seat, but stood near his son, and Draco perceived a warmth in his eyes which was not apparent when his parents were together.

"Do I have a godmother?" he asked, although this was not the question which was first upon his mind.

"Yes, your Aunt Bellatrix," Lucius replied, watching his son carefully, for this was not a question normally to be asked in the middle of the night, surely.

"And have you and Mother picked a bride for me?" he continued.

"Not yet," Lucius admitted, wondering at the abrupt change of subject, "it is difficult to set up alliances just now, in these troubled times... Was there perhaps someone who has caught your fancy?" He was not averse to receiving his son's input in the matter - how he wished he had been allowed that luxury, although he knew he would never have been allowed his only choice.

"No, not really," Draco averred. He lapsed into silence, watching Severus. Watching Lucius. And thinking, always thinking, the gears in his mind almost visibly turning.

Lucius glanced at his paramour, who sat immobile, before suddenly springing to life and moving a piece on the board. "Check, Lucius," he said, a small note of triumph apparent in his voice.

Draco felt decidedly comfortable here, in this room, in the presence of these two men who were such an important part of his life - a feeling such as he derived nowhere else in the Manor, where coldness seemed to carry the day, and hateur was the prevailing ambience. But here was something else, something undefinable, yet palpable - emotions at play here that were evident nowhere else in this house. Was this something new? Or had he been blind to it all along, he wondered.

He glanced down at his feet to hide his confusion. How was he supposed to feel about what he was thinking, if what he was thinking was true? It would be an affront to his mother, an insult almost...and yet...and yet...there was something so very wonderful here that he could almost touch it - how could such a feeling be wrong? Perhaps in part this revelation helped to answer questions he himself had regarding his own sexuality. "I've not found any girl that pleases me, Father," he added as an afterthought. Although that simple statement told his father more than he realized.

"Draco," he said, and watched as his son met his eyes, "I'm afraid that love and marriage do not always go hand in hand for such as us. Marriages are arranged... and love is where you find it, but seldom in the same place, if you know what I mean?"

Draco nodded.

"And if you are lucky enough to find such a love, do whatever it takes to hold onto it," Lucius added softly, "for it is more valuable than anything which mere money can buy..."

"I will, Father," Draco replied. Was that a glance he intercepted between the two men? Possibly, but he made no comment upon it. "Good night again, Father, Severus... I shall see you both in the morning, of course."

"Of course," the two men replied in tandem.

Draco made his way from the sitting room, and stood in the hallway for several minutes, thinking, thinking... He thought he knew, but what did he really know? A sudden desire to see the truth for himself welled inside of him, and casting a stealth charm (knowing that it was illegal to do so, but knowing he would never be called to account for it), he managed to open the door once more, without being seen...or heard...(Draco could be very cunning, indeed, when the situation required it) his eyes eagerly scanning the room, prepared to venture farther, if need be, into the very bedroom itself...

But it wasn't necessary, as they had not left the room. Severus was still seated in the same armchair. But now Lucius was seated upon his lap, their foreheads touching in silent communion, eyes locked one upon the other, arms in place about one another's shoulders, and lips lightly pressed together. Nothing was being spoken between them, and yet their eyes spoke volumes. Draco watched this touching tableau for a few seconds, before he retreated once more, making sure the door was securely closed behind him.

And as he walked down the hall to his own room, he felt somehow lighter, more at ease with himself and the world around him, knowing that such a love existed, and hopeful he would find his own someday...And as he walked, he whistled to himself, softly, the image of his father and his lover burned into his brain. And he was a very happy young man indeed.


End file.
